Woke up to you with one hand round my thighs and one hand round a warm cigarette. Wisps of smoke rolled playfully out your dishevelled, handsome grin; makin’ a break for it through ivory jail-cell-bar teeth. And as you ashed into your empty coffee cup, black, three shots, I bent my body over yours, hips hovering bouyantly, hands crowning your face and I kissed that smoky grin of yours I kissed it with every muscle in my lips and with every breath in my lungs, 'til your tar-stained teeth shined like lost pearls in a rough sea.
Keys in the front door. Sun reluctantly disappears and your fingers mesh with mine, with another hand I lit a warm cigarette. you kiss me as I empty out a glass, and heave my crystal lungs. Your hands on my hips, taking a drag. They all say: if this is love then I don’t want none, if this is love then you two got it right. And the moon had peeped its head through our window moon-beams singin’ us to sleep amid a haze of smoke, and wine, and passion that could’a melted the whole **** city. And our bodies had intertwined, with one hand we held eachother close, and the other we wrapped around a warm cigarette